your own person
by Plum'oh
Summary: Natsume Takashi is not Natsume Reiko.


**Rating:** G

 **Summary:** Natsume Takashi is not Natsume Reiko.

 **Disclaimer:** The characters belong to Yuki Midorikawa.

Hello! This was my first NatsuYuu fic after I binged the anime in a week. It was crossposted to AO3.

Enjoy!

* * *

 **One-shot:** your own person

The youkai tilts her head, mild confusion painted on her face as she considers him.

"You're not Reiko, then?"

Natsume smiles, eyes crinkling with that kindness he always shows to anyone who was willing to listen, and he shakes his head.

"She was my grandmother. She passed away, I'm sorry."

As he watches the youkai bobs her head in understanding and leaves, he thinks about all the people Reiko-san has met, all the ones she's helped one way or another, to the point that decades later they still fondly remember her, and wonders if she's ever wanted to leave her trace in the world with so much clarity, for beings she only could see.

His fingers curl into fists, and he heads home.

* * *

He has never heard good things about his mother's family—there seems to be a general consensus about the way his relatives should talk about them, like they were completely cut off from the others and constituted a whole world on their own. Natsume has never seen any of them.

While his mother is spared from the sharpest and nastiest comments, surely because she showed so much love and care towards her husband, Reiko-san is the target of all this gratuitous cruelty only known to those trying to assert superiority over others. He's heard it all; a weirdo, a dangerous woman, a libertine, a crazy dropout. Someone who was too strange to understand, too harsh to listen to, too difficult to put up with, too much to live. Wherever she goes, problems follow, like a curse she's brought onto herself with her solitude.

A liar, when she claims she's only helping, and not causing disasters right and left.

Natsume manages to catch the echo of these accusations because he knows what is right. He is probably the only one alive remembering how anxious and lonely she was, how bright she appeared when she was challenging people, how incredible her entire aura was. He can't blame them for only seeing what they can, just like how they can't imagine a second world wrapped around theirs, but he can blame them for rejecting her without trying. He knows there are people out there who must have reached out, who have believed her, but he regrets they weren't strong enough to erase the black smears on her name.

Their similarities probably end here, at their shared oddness.

* * *

When Hinoe catches wind of a particular request a youkai made involving baseball bats and strength, she laughs and laughs until she can't even properly draw from her pipe.

"A battle? With _you_?"

Natsume's eyebrow slightly twitches at seeing her shiny eyes and traces of tears behind them, as she spectacularly fails at repressing her mirth before his unimpressed look. She smiles, a bit mocking and a bit fondly, like she expected a cutting remark coming her way, but when it doesn't, she shakes her head, leaning against a tree.

"Why would he want something like that?" she asks.

"Apparently he wanted to, and I quote, 'get a feel from the past'," Natsume sighs. "Reiko-san beat him in a fight."

"Of course she did. She was strong, after all."

There is no hidden meaning or malice behind this statement, but Natsume still—feels his core shake, by innocent but charged with emotions words he can only try to understand. Hinoe has been at Reiko-san's side for a while (years?), and has witnessed many times demonstrations of the strength she carries like a shield. She is human, yet the youkais respect her and admire her, because she's reliable, and kind—kind in her own way.

"What did your twig arms do against that youkai?" Hinoe teases, finally smoking her pipe without choking.

Natsume's cheeks turn a shade of pink, and he looks away.

"I accidentally punched him in my flailing."

Another bout of cackling takes over Hinoe, though she's less surprised by the outcome than by the duel in itself. Natsume supposes it's fair, since he does end up punching youkais quite a lot, whether he likes it or not—and that's a perfectly normal reaction to have when you are chased by crazy beings unwilling to listen to you! He apologized, of course, but the issue remains that he didn't win the duel, and even if the youkai assured him it was a draw, it felt more like a personal loss that simply reinforced the idea he can't protect himself.

"Reiko would have beaten him with that bat easily, but you didn't do too bad, kid."

Hinoe grins at him, face veiled with pride, or maybe wistfulness, but either case she seems to be pleased. Natsume's mouth forms around words he wants to say, then decides against it, and settles for another one of his smiles.

"Thank you."

He thinks about the baseball bat, the memory of Reiko-san swinging it like second nature to chase away youkais to protect another one, all the while sporting a smile that promises hell for anyone standing in her path. He thinks about what led her to develop such a confident and assertive presence, and wonders.

* * *

"Please, Natsume-sama! Help us!"

"You idiot, ask nicely! Don't you remember how easily Natsume-sama defeated that powerful youkai that day?"

"Ah, I apologize for being so rude, Natsume-sama!"

The two little tree youkais bow deeply, almost touching the tatami floor of his room, and Natsume sighs, way more used to this sight than he should be. He idly strokes Nyanko-sensei's fur, eyes trained on the figures of the youkais going this far to get help, even from someone they fear.

"I think you are talking about my grandmother, Natsume Reiko. I'm her grandson."

The two youkais lift their heads, sending each other confused glances, then their faces light up in understanding, like they just remembered what the current rumors were saying, if they heard any.

"Human lives are so short, I often forget that," one of them says.

"That they are," the other agrees. "Such a shame. Natsume Reiko seemed invincible."

Youkais don't age, and basically live for eternity, only seeing time pass without much worry about what they do during the day—napping appears to be a popular choice. Natsume doesn't think he would want that kind of life, and Reiko-san probably didn't, either, despite all the praise she seems to get from youkais.

"I might not be as strong as Reiko-san, but I'll do my best to help you," he answers with a smile.

He's stopped stroking Sensei at one point, which perhaps explains why he's suddenly groaning, so Natsume resumes his petting with a chuckle. The youkais look at them curiously, but don't comment.

"We appreciate it, Natsume-sama. Your kindness goes beyond our expectations."

"You own something as great as the Book of Friends, yet you are willing to help us small youkais! Truly, thank you!"

"The Book of Friends doesn't define who I am," Natsume weakly protests, seeing how his two visitors don't give the impression to register his words.

As soon as the words are out of his mouth, he pauses. He glances at the book in question, facing him with its ordinary cover. Many times he has wondered why it was called the 'Book of Friends', if Reiko-san never intended to see any of them again; it's an odd decision he can't even begin to understand, but he realized that maybe, maybe, this one difference is what truly sets him apart from his grandmother. He doesn't possess her bravery, he can't inspire admiration right away—he's just a teenager trying to fix the wrongs he stumbles upon. And if he collects friendships across the country, when Reiko-san fought against them, then perhaps he should accept it.

He is too preoccupied with staring at the Book of Friends to notice Sensei opening an eye to watch him.

* * *

Natsume has to admit that even for him, it's rather late, and he didn't think it through before involving himself in yet again another mess (by Nyanko-sensei's standards). Going back home covered in bruises and dirt isn't a sight the Fujiwaras has never seen, though, and while he loathes worrying them, he isn't seriously injured, so he can still get away with a little lie.

"If you stopped helping every single insignificant small fry, you'd be less trouble!" Sensei grumbles, waving a paw at him from his perch on his shoulder. "You twig!"

"At least I'm not fat like you, Sensei," Natsume retorts without batting an eye.

There is hardly anybody on the roads, humans and youkais alike, which allows Natsume to relax. Being surrounded by youkais all day long is always tiring, especially if they need something specific or if he ends up in dangerous situations—that is to say, every time. Today is no different, with the returning of a few names on top of that.

Natsume thinks he's toughened up, after all these encounters, but he's still not Reiko-san, and will never be.

Something is shoved at his cheek and travels to his nose, and he hisses, swatting at it until he realizes that it's Sensei's paw.

"What are you doing, Sensei?!"

"Stop mulling over stupid thoughts and get home! I'm hungry!"

Natsume shoots Nyanko-sensei a quizzical look, not completely following his meaning. Sensei is narrowing his eyes at him, like he dares him to say anything back or to spout out nonsense, "just like he usually does", apparently, and that in itself is enough to draw a chuckle from him. Sensei is waving his paw at his face again.

"What are you laughing at? Hurry up!"

"Yes, yes."

His steps are a bit faster, a bit lighter, as he crosses roads and fields to get back on the familiar path home. He bypasses the tree housing a bird youkai that always greets him in the mornings. In one of the small shrines, another youkai decided to take up residence to rest before resuming her journey. Natsume knows these people.

For a few minutes they don't speak, only listen to the sounds of the night. Then, Sensei looks up at the sky.

"These youkais think you're grand and incredible because they probably never met a human stupid enough to help them without sparing a thought for his own well-being. They don't know you're just a stick-man with one brain cell set on helping anyone who so much as makes eye contact with you."

That brings a smile on Natsume's lips, the one that shows enough relief to know that it's sincere, not some kind of substitute to build a wall around him. He lifts his arms and gathers Sensei in his arms, squeezing a little bit too hard probably, but the beast doesn't complain—he stays still.

"Reiko-san was an amazing person," Natsume softly says. When Sensei doesn't reply, he continues, "She did what she thought was right for her, and for the others."

He keeps walking. He can see the street of the Fujiwaras' house from a distance.

"She wasn't kind to everyone," Sensei comments.

Natsume wonders. "Maybe. Her kindness was different."

"You're not Reiko. I would have even more trouble keeping you in check if you were half as ruthless as she was."

Natsume brings a hand on top of Sensei's head to scratch it, and this time the curve of his lips feels less strained, less heavy.

The Book of Friends sits in his bag, protecting all the friends he has yet to meet.

* * *

Thank you for reading! Reviews are always appreciated :)


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